


Acherōïda

by MalevolentReverie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, But Still Mostly Enemies, Crater Lake National Park, Darkfic, Demon Deals, Demon Sex, Dubious Consent, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Finn and Rose Are Fish, Hades and Leuce, Help, Hippie Dippie, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), May Have Noncon In The Future, National Park Porn, Poe is A Bird, Reposting So It Doesn't Magically Reappear As A Slightly Different Fic, nymph rey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-10 04:02:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20521631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalevolentReverie/pseuds/MalevolentReverie
Summary: Oceanid nymph Rey struggles to protect her territory from encroaching humans, and has far worse luck when she confronts the demon foreman Ben over dust pollution in her suffering lake.DISCONTINUED





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i'm reposting this in case the urge to write it strikes me because i really like the idea. the first chapter may undergo some revision

Long before the humans come, Rey senses something is wrong in her lake.

It’s well-protected—the humans enjoy the deep blue color and clarity, and they run their tests and hike their trails and keep the lake clean. It’s better than how others of her kind fare when the mortals encroach on their territory with slick black oil and loud machines, tearing down ancient trees and poisoning lakes until they suffocate.

But there’s been a stir. The humans roam closer to the fringes of the crater, assessing the edge, pointing and chattering in their plain language.

Rey watches from the cold depths, submerged up to her nose in the dark water. They’re planning something. Humans are never happy with what they have—never happy until they’ve leveled the oldest forests and tainted the clearest lakes.

“Whatcha doin’?”

She glances down to find a friend: Finn, a Kokanee salmon who lives along Phantom Ship island. He’s a curious fish who often wanders too close to lures.

“They’re planning something,” Rey says, narrowing her eyes. “Has anyone heard more news? Is Poe back?”

“Nope—he likes the attention when the humans see him.” Finn swims in a lazy circle and eagerly swims in when Rey offers a crayfish in her palm. “Ah! My favorite!”

“Eat as many as you want. They shouldn’t be here.” Rey points as Finn chews on his crayfish and he pauses. “Stay away from my newts. They’re still rebounding from these awful things.”

Finn pokes his head from the water, sloppily chewing the crayfish claw. “I know, I know. Usually I stick to the trout and I tell everyone else to do the same. Rose is a great hunter, y’know. She found a dozen crayfish yesterday and grabbed one off a newt.”

Truth be told, none of the fish or crayfish should be in the caldera. They were all introduced by humans and are all slowly polluting Rey’s lake, but she enjoys the company of the fish. It’s a desolate place without them, tourist boats aside—and they do their best to help keep the lake pristine.

Rey slips deeper into the cold water, melding her skin within it until she’s gliding through like a current. Finn easily keeps pace to her home island in the middle of the lake, dubbed Wizard Island by the humans.

She steps from the lake and slowly returns to human form as another familiar friend glides past.

Poe flaps his wings, ever the show-off, and screeches as he finds a thick branch to perch upon. He’s a peregrine falcon that passes through during summer and _loves _when humans take his picture. Sometimes he makes it into the park magazine and brings one to show Rey and Finn.

He settles, clicking his beak. “Betcha I went two-hundred on that downslope, Rey. Humans can’t keep up with the Speed Demon.”

“Bet you can’t out run one of those bald eagles!” Finn calls from the shore.

“Those slow pokes?! They eat what I leave behind.” Poe puffs his feathers and flaps his wings, because he’s a little insecure about his size. “No one can catch up to me. The humans say so.”

Rey raises an eyebrow as she takes her favorite spot on her favorite rock. Flowers bloom pink around her and vines crawl toward her legs, wrapping lightly, feeding information about the lake and the animals. Crater Lake’s nervous system can’t tell her everything, but it’s better than relying on a peregrine falcon.

“Golden eagles?” she offers. “They’re fast—and big. Horned owls, gyrfalcons…”

Poe clicks his beak and shudders. “Fine, fine. Don’t say that too loud, alright? Golden’s have good hearing, y’know, and it’s breeding season.”

Another salmon pokes from the water beside Finn. She spits out a mouthful of crayfish and Poe descends on them with talons and beak, hopping around excitedly. Rey waves to Rose and smiles. She’s a good hunter. Hopefully she’ll come back when her spawning season ends. Finn always reincarnates.

“They’re everywhere!” Rose laments. “Can’t the humans throw us a bone here?!”

“They’ll use some chemical that’ll kill all of us,” Rey says, rolling her eyes. “Myself included. We’ll get them under control—I keep most of the newts on the far side of the caldera where the crayfish haven’t colonized yet. Any news from the humans, Poe?”

He crunches obnoxiously. “Uh…. Nothing good. They’re bringing in another human for construction on the rim. Another resort.”

“On the _rim_?” Finn echoes. He flicks his tail, splashing water on shore. “Where? Near the slope? That’s where all the fry hide! All the dust rolling down will choke them and we don’t have anywhere else—”

“Okay, Finn,” Rose interrupts. She spits another crayfish on shore and Poe impales it. “Don’t be such a scaredy-fish. Rey will get it under control and convince them to stay away from here. She has a good rapport with the humans, right?”

No. Rey’s never had a good rapport with the humans. But she smiles and nods anyway as the vines climb her back, twisting across old wounds that will never heal. She’s a nymph. She can do this.

• • •

Poe does some more scouting and finds the human in charge is named Benjamin Naberrie Solo. He’s big as far as humans go and seems short-tempered, but Rey hopes she can convince him to stop before construction begins. Maybe he’ll understand that the lake is too fragile for such a thing.

Another resident of the lake, a grizzled bald eagle, helps Poe carry down human clothing so Rey can disguise herself. Her body is an amorphous shape with few defining sex characteristics, but that’s easily hidden under a baggy CRATER LAKE shirt and shorts stolen from the gift shop.

Poe hops on his branch beside the eagle, nervous. “I’ve gotta go check on the nest. Be careful, Rey.”

“Do I look human?” she asks, turning in a circle, wringing water from her hair. “I mean, will a human fall for it, or…?”

“Human men are stupid,” the eagle replies. Poe takes off and he ruffles his feathers. “And some falcons.”

It’s been years since Rey last dealt with a human. They like to sling insults when confronted and become very emotional. It’s best to keep one’s voice low as to not frighten them into an outburst.

She steps onto the water and assumes a reflective tone to hide herself as she runs across to the opposite shore. The caldera has steep walls that prevent humans from climbing down, save for one path where they fish out the trout and salmon.

Finn follows her to the shore and jumps before swimming back into the depths to tend to his brood with Rose. Rey waves as her skin returns to normal, tan and riddled with sunspots from hours spent under the sunshine. The thin slip-on shoes she’s wearing do little to protect her from the rough path, but she can’t risk being seen using her supernatural abilities.

She scrambles up the trail while the bald eagle circles overhead, attracting human attention away from her. The first group she finds is dressed in thick clothing and boots to protect them from the elements, but she slips past without rousing their suspicion. They gasp and photograph the eagle instead.

Rey moves through tall weathered trees she’s now spent several years with, slipping through shadows and brushing the bark with her fingertips. Some are quiet and ancient—some are still young and responsive, eager to tell her of the humans on the rim. They hear as much as Poe does.

“I know,” she mumbles, heart pounding. “I’m going.”

It’s a painful thing to have so many living beings dependent on her. They speak to her when the soles of her feet press to the earth and wait patiently for her to perch on her rock and communicate in midday. She hears it all: whispers, sometimes screams; desperate newts fleeing claws and trees shuddering as their gnarled branches are reduced to firewood.

Humans don’t understand the agony they cause; Rey is certain of it. If they did, and continued to fell trees and flay fish alive and shoot elk with their calves—well, that would make them evil.

She ascends quickly, reaching the top of the trail and caldera within an hour. Her body doesn’t tire like a human’s and she carries on down a paved road without a moment’s hesitation.

The screaming grows louder as she moves up in elevation to where old groves are being cleared and fires have left the earth scalded and dead. Restless spirits haunt these places. Rey has no control over them and what they choose to do.

The bald eagle guides her along toward a zone marked off with yellow and red. Humans pause now to observe her, perhaps noting her hair is soaked and her eyes are a bit too bright. Rey swallows nervously and tries to wave and be friendly, but the humans recoil from it, gathering their children away.

But a strange tension hangs across the forest, and it isn’t the communal fear of more human encroachment. It’s something else.

Rey casually steps over CAUTION tape. Several humans hang in a group, talking and touching their white helmets, but the one she wants to speak with is obvious. He _is _very large for a human man.

She clears her throat. “Benjamin Naberrie Solo?”

Bees buzz past. The other three human men turn to regard her, scowling and assessing her clothes. Their’s are black and clean-pressed and have likely never touched the lake water. They glare and tap on their phones until Benjamin slowly turns around.

It’s _him_. He’s the source of the unrest. Rey can feel a cold prickle in the ground that roils the dormant magma far beneath them, and she knows.

He raises his eyebrows. He’s pale, with large hands and a sad twist to his mouth, and not entirely hideous as humans go. He’s hardly mesmerizing, though.

“…Can you read?” he asks. He motions for the others to leave and they do, skulking away like coyotes. “Or are you from Greenpeace? If you’re from Greenpeace, I’ll throw you into the lake.”

“No, no.” Rey wrings her hands, shrinking under his penetrating glare. She’s wildly unprepared. “I just—I live here, and I heard you’re going to start construction near the slope. My friends raise their fr—babies, nest there, and—”

Benjamin scowls and steps toward Rey. He may be a human, but he’s _big_, and she doesn’t want to rouse attention using her supernatural talents.

“You _live _here?” he echoes snidely. “It’s a National Park and I’m an independent contractor. Take it up with your local government if you want to save the invasive fish in the basin.”

“I know they shouldn’t be here but that doesn’t mean you can pollute their home and kill their fry. Just reconsider; maybe move the resort back from the rim so the fish and newts won’t be disturbed.” She shrugs, nervous, and the ecosystem senses it. The bald eagle circles lower. “I’m just asking you to consider the impact—”

“I’ve already paid half a million to study the fucking impact. Cry about it in town hall or read one of the studies on the park website.”

“Mister Naberrie-Solo, I’m only asking as a friend, not a human… interloper. This lake is important to me—I have to protect it.” Rey senses word is spreading that the human doesn’t care what she has to say. It drifts through the trees down to the lake and fear blooms. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Ben drops his clipboard. He seizes Rey by her upper arm and yanks her toward him, and the fear quickly morphs into the same rage that made Mount Mazama erupt in the first place. If she dies, the lake dies. She’s the nexus of the nervous system.

He looms over her and smiles. “Get off my property before I call the police.”

“It doesn’t belong to you,” Rey retorts.

“Yes it does—and right now so do you, hippie bitch.”

A flash of gray and white breezes past Ben, snatching the clipboard. He glances up just as the old bald eagle dives from the sky with his talons outstretched and a scream in his throat.

The humans panic. Ben’s hardhat protects him but the others aren’t so lucky: the old bald eagle shreds what his talons can catch, stirred into a frenzy like the other animals. Rey grabs the clipboard from Poe and races down the edge of the caldera without a second glance, shedding her clothes and letting the breeze carry her through the trees.

She dives into the lake the moment it’s visible. Skin fades and the cold dark draws her deeper, away from the clipboard floating on the surface.

She’s failed again.


	2. Chapter 2

“Well _that_ didn’t go well.”

Finn splashes Poe with a quick flick of his tail. Poe squawks and hops away on his branch like it’s hot oil.

Rey has her knees drawn up, arms folded over them, and she gazes morosely across the bright blue water. No, it didn’t. She’s failed before and she’s failing again. She doesn’t want another reassignment.

Rose comes as close to the shore as she can. “It’s okay, Rey. Humans are forgetful—you can try again in a few days and he won’t even know who you are.”

“That was a nasty human,” remarks the old eagle. He shuffles his wings and Poe hops the other way. “I’ve never seen such a thing; not in many years. Perhaps there is more to Benjamin Naberrie Solo.”

Rey frowns. Yes, she sensed something was off, too. His presence felt like a dark pit, powerful for a human man, and even the magma cooled deep beneath the lake stirred from his anger. That’s not something typical of a human—at least, not a normal one.

Hm. She should investigate further.

She glances up at the eagle. “You’re right. Something isn’t right about him.”

The others shuffle about when she stands. Rey chews her lower lip and looks up toward the rim. It’s nightfall now so Benjamin is surely back in his human home sleeping, but perhaps she can find him. Learn things.

“I’m going to find him,” she announces, hands on her hips. “I’m going to be proactive and try to convince him this is wrong. I can’t just sit here and wait.”

“That’s the Rey I know!” Finn jumps and splashes Poe again, who hisses.

It’s a long shot and kind of dangerous, but she can’t wait for him to come back. A trip outside the caldera won’t cause any permanent damage, as long as she’s back within a couple weeks. It shouldn’t take that long. Humans are generally good.

Benjamin just needs a push in the right direction.

Rey squares her shoulders and starts across the water, leaving rippling footprints in her wake. Rose and Finn swim along behind her and Poe flies overhead, nervously avoiding the bald eagle.

Rose leaps. “Are you sure? He’s a mean human.”

“Rey has all kinds of superpowers,” Poe calls. He makes a lazy dip and pops up again. “He can’t hurt her, and if he tries, I’ll pluck his eyes out.”

The bald eagle flies along behind them. He’s nameless, like it used to be before the humans came. His ancestors never took names.

At the shore, Rey changes form, shrinking down to become a small orange newt like the others in danger of extinction. Her skin shrivels and she winces as all her nerves and blood vessels compress and shrink into a tiny body. It’s easier for her to be carried this way but it’s not pleasant.

Poe prods her with a talon and skitters away when the eagle lands next to him. He gives Poe a venomous glare.

“Where d’you think he is?” Finn asks. He chomps a stray crayfish. “Maybe he lives nearby, for the construction.”

Rey can’t do much in her newt form. She takes a deep breath as the eagle gently scoops her in his claws and clings on with her tacky toes.

“I already followed him.” The eagle flaps his wings, kicking up dirt and pine needles, and the others move back. “Northbound. A small house outside the park, within a half hour drive. He lives alone.”

“Of course he does,” Rose mutters.

It’s dangerous and Rey shouldn’t be away from the caldera for long, but it has to be done. She waves a tiny foot and the others wish her good luck, then the eagle makes two hard flaps and lifts off into the air. She’ll be back to see them soon enough, after she’s done convincing Benjamin to do the right thing.

They rapidly gain altitude and Rey squeezes her eyes shut. The lake pulls back, resisting her leaving, but it snaps like a rubber band and frees her as they leave the caldera. An ache remains. It’s like a burn.

The eagle soars through the chilly night air, catching updrafts, occasionally flapping his wings. It must be lovely to fly. Rey hasn’t tried yet—she only transforms into a newt at the present—but soon she’ll have to learn how to become an eagle. Poe is fast, but the eagle is graceful and idle.

He clacks his beak. “If you’d like, I can follow him a bit longer. Learn more.” His sharp eyes appear underneath his belly as he curls to look at Rey. “I would prefer not to put you in danger, Rey.”

She shakes her head. They don’t have time to study Benjamin for weeks on end. Construction starts soon and she doesn’t want to risk Finn and Rose or Poe; everything in the lake deserves a clean place to live.

They carry on through the night, finally reaching a human settlement with bright lights and streets. Rey peers past the eagle’s talons and marvels at it. Humans are capable of amazing things, but they have a poisonous touch. They’re never happy with what they have, and it will be their downfall.

The eagle circles as he descends to a smaller light outside the settlement. It’s surrounded by a copse of trees, shielded from the noise and lights, and Rey imagines it must be very peaceful.

Her companion lands on the branch of an old redwood. It shudders and rustles from his weight as he carefully sets Rey beside him. She crawls a foot or so away, studying the small house, and transforms into a human shape again.

It’s slow going. The abdomen comes first, followed by the limbs that sprout like branches from her trunk, and the sensations rapidly change and adjust to her more complicated nervous system. She grimaces while the eagle continues observing the small cabin, head tilted.

“He’s inside,” the eagle murmurs. “I see him.”

Rey wiggles her fingers and toes when the transformation is complete. She fashions human clothes—those shorts and a plain t-shirt—but forgoes shoes or socks. Barefoot is better. She can feel things in the earth through her feet: trees communicating, water flowing, magma bubbling. The trees talk. They’re a wealth of information.

But she doesn’t have any control like she does over the lake. She’s just an observer listening to a conversation.

“Okay.” Rey takes a deep breath, widening her eyes. “How do I look? Human?”

The eagle squints. “Your eyes are too bright.”

“Ah—thanks.” She blinks to dim them and points to him. “I’ll report back within twenty four hours. If he won’t let me in I can sleep in one of these puddles until tomorrow.”

“Understood. I’ll stay nearby.”

Rey takes another deep breath before hopping off the branch. She must have surprised Benjamin earlier. He’ll be more pleasant.

“Rey?”

She glances up. The eagle has his wings folded and is still studying her, and she senses a bit of concern from him.

She smiles and waves. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” Just to prove it, she lets her forearm transform into water. “See? He can’t even grab me.”

“…Yes. Well.” He unfurls his wide wings, flapping once, just to stretch. “I have my doubts we’re dealing with a normal human. Be safe. I’ll remain in the area and report back this time tomorrow.”

The eagle flaps again and takes off into the dark night. Rey frowns after him, waving her arm to return to a solid shape. He’s an ancient bird, as far as birds go, so it’s expected that he’ll be unsure. But she knows her own power, and a human man can’t harm her in any way.

She turns to face the cabin. Moths flutter around the porch light, confused and panicked, and she gently waves them away, sending them off into the darkness. Small anxieties. Easy things for her to fix.

More importantly, strange things prickle under her feet.

Whispers. Fear that runs deep and wide like a river. The trees murmur to one another about the strange human in the cabin and creep closer to her presence among them, whispers escalating. They’re grateful to have a nymph to intervene, but it seems Benjamin has done no damage. There are no burnt stumps or screaming wounds like in her caldera.

Rey listens to them for a moment before she realizes she doesn’t hear the gentle chirp of crickets. It’s silent.

Something quivers in her belly. This is supernatural. Benjamin must be one of her kind somehow concealing himself, or… something worse. She can’t control quite a few different things in the universe.

She looks up at the canopy of trees. “I know, I know. I’m going! I’ll try to get him out of here, okay?”

The whispers die down somewhat but a nauseating undercurrent of fear remains. It buzzes up the soles of Rey’s feet into the metaphysical part of her, where she differentiates from a human, or an angel, or a…

Leaves shudder. The trees echo her thought in a louder murmur.

_Demon_.

But that’s unlikely. Demons have other things to do. They like big cities and places to cause chaos, or picking on weak humans to drag to the pits of their domain. None of them care much for nymphs. There’s no fun to be had in tormenting an immortal.

Rey waggles her arms to shake out the anxiety before heading up the porch steps. She lifts her hand to knock, but hesitates.

This is it. She can’t fail again. She can’t lose another home, and another group of friends, to the reckless encroachment of humans. Someone has to stop them before they destroy all the places nymphs call home.

Rey knocks twice.

There’s a stir inside the cabin and heavy feet on the floor. Her stomach twists in knots as he comes closer, twisting a lock, and a cold shiver passes through her and the trees. There’s something wrong here. She sensed it earlier this afternoon and she’s sensing it again—more intense. He doesn’t have to hide himself when he’s away from the humans.

The door opens before she can change her mind and run. Realization washes over her like a frigid wave, because she’s made a terrible mistake in her brash attempt to save Crater Lake.

Benjamin still looks entirely human, save for the long tail snapping behind him like a whip. He raises his eyebrows set over soft brown human eyes and the dark aura rolls off him in long, suffocating ebbs, like a riptide dragging her to her death. Rey stiffens. This is a demon. This is not something she can fix.

He leans on the doorframe and smiles slowly. His shadow eclipses her and when he blinks, his eyes shift to slitted green irises, studying her in the darkness. They don’t need to pretend around each other.

“And I thought I’d have to come find _you_,” he murmurs. His fangs flash under his lip. He’s chewing gum.

Rey stares and tries to speak. “I… I… I came here—”

“Yeah, you want me to leave your little lake alone, huh?”

“…Yes.”

Benjamin crosses his arms over his broad chest and leans out to look around. His aura repulses Rey and she takes a sharp step back. He’s very skilled in hiding his demonic presence; he must be very old and very powerful. She’s made a _terrible _mistake. This is an issue for a demi-god.

The demon rakes his eyes down her front. “No bald eagle to claw my face off? You’re lucky I didn’t kill him.”

“You—!” Rey balls her fists, so infuriated by the threat that she ignores the fear. “Don’t threaten them! The entire lake dies if I die and _you _were threatening me!”

“Oh, I know that. You’re not my first nymph.”

She blinks. Benjamin keeps smiling and it slowly bares his sharp teeth, and cold crawls up Rey’s calves.

He steps back as the ice digs into her skin, freezing her cells so she can’t revert to her aqueous form. She panics and manages to transform her upper arms before they’re taken, but the rest of her body is forced into stasis, and she can’t walk or talk or move. The trees rustle—they’re talking again, sending out a distress signal.

“Oh yeah.” Benjamin watches casually as she’s dragged over the threshold. He won’t stop smiling. “You’re not my first nymph by a long shot.”

Rey squeezes her eyes shut. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.

But there’s no escape. She’s pulled into the horrifying aura and the door slams shut behind her.


End file.
